


I'll be what you need (Goodbye, apathy)

by piginawig



Series: That's where you'll find me [3]
Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: 27 years later, Fix-It, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-16 00:14:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15424764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piginawig/pseuds/piginawig
Summary: "Helping you through nightmares of me dying is the least I can do after you literally nursed me back to health for six weeks," Eddie responded with a tired smile. Richie didn't say anything, just let his head fall back into his pillow, pulling Eddie with him. Eddie sighed as he nestled into Richie's bed. Richie felt his heart beat faster the way it always did when Eddie was in his bedroom, in his bed, in his arms. The small smile that had formed on his face fell, however, when Eddie spoke again. "I think you should see a therapist."Or, 27 years later, Richie goes to therapy.





	I'll be what you need (Goodbye, apathy)

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be the last installment of this series but I've decided there will be one more after this! I hope you enjoy, and thanks for waiting so long for this!

Richie didn't know what to do. Eddie's eyes were closed, his face pale with a sheen of sweat coating his skin, his chest unmoving. Blood steadily poured out from the gaping wound where his arm used to be. Ben's belt, buckled tightly by Beverly, didn't seem to be helping. Richie watched helplessly as Beverly stood and sobbed, Ben holding her up. He couldn't see Bill. Eddie was dead in his lap. He screamed, unaware if he was forming words or just noises, and Beverly stopped crying, started saying his name, at first softly and then louder.

Her voice sounded like Eddie's.

He shook his head, glancing back down to Eddie's lifeless body, but he blinked and when he opened his eyes again, he was in his bedroom, dripping with sweat and with Eddie on the mattress next to him, hovering over his body and shouting his name worriedly.

He gasped, only then becoming aware of how hard he had been panting, and he haphazardly threw his arms around Eddie's neck, feeling Eddie huff a surprised laugh against his neck as he lost his balance and fell onto Richie. Eddie easily settled into a comfortable position, resting in the crook of Richie's arm, as he waited for Richie's body and mind to settle from the nightmare.

"Same one?" Eddie asked after a few moments had passed.

"Yeah," Richie answered, fingers mindlessly dancing on Eddie's clothed hip, the fabric of his pajamas soft against Richie’s skin. "Sorry I woke you up again."

"Helping you through nightmares of me dying is the least I can do after you literally nursed me back to health for six weeks," Eddie responded with a tired smile. Richie didn't say anything, just let his head fall back into his pillow, pulling Eddie with him. Eddie sighed as he nestled into Richie's bed. Richie felt his heart beat faster the way it always did when Eddie was in his bedroom, in his bed, in his arms. The small smile that had formed on his face fell, however, when Eddie spoke again. "I think you should see a therapist."

It was something Eddie had been doing since the pair had gotten to California, something required for learning how to cope with his new physical reality, and he had constantly told Richie how much it helped. How it helped with more than just losing his arm; he felt more pride in himself for leaving Myra, he finally felt comfortable with his sexuality, he was learning to not feel like a burden to Richie. Richie had wondered if all these comments were his subtle way of telling Richie he should try it too. Apparently, Eddie had decided his subtlety wasn't working.

"Am I supposed to tell them that I have nightmares all the time about my best friend getting his arm eaten by a demon clown? Because I'm not sure how well that would go over with a mental health professional."

"Stop being an ass," Eddie said lightly, using his left hand to pinch Richie's side. "My therapist helps without knowing the reality of the situation. She knows we met back up at a reunion after losing touch for years, and that we were all in a building that collapsed where I lost my arm. Everything else I tell her is the truth. You could just say your nightmares are about the building collapse. I don't think your problem is about It anyway."

"Really?" Richie raised his eyebrows at Eddie. "What is my problem then, Dr. K?"

Eddie rolled his eyes. "Sometimes I swear you're 14 again."

"That didn't answer the question."

Eddie huffed, avoiding Richie's eyes. "I think you feel guilty about what happened to me."

The truth of Eddie's words hit Richie heavily. He opened his mouth to speak but couldn't find anything to say.

"Just think about it, Rich," Eddie said softly, before leaning in to press a soft kiss to Richie's cheek. He climbed out of the bed, making use of his left arm, and made his way to the bedroom door. "Try to get some sleep, okay?"

"Yeah," Richie agreed, still nodding even after Eddie closed the door behind him.

*

"Bev and Ben will be here any minute," Eddie said, looking at his watch. "Did you finish in the guest bedrooms?"

"Yes sir," Richie responded with a salute. "Beds are made with clean sheets, bathrooms are clean, and windows are open to air out the _stale scent_."

"Stop saying it like that," Eddie groaned. "It's a thing."

"Sure it is," Richie agreed with a smirk. Eddie opened his mouth to retort but the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it!”

Richie rushed to the door and yanked it open, shouting, “What the fuck is up, losers!” and ushering Beverly and Ben inside. Eddie grinned at them as they walked in, his eyes widening in shock as Beverly immediately ran to him and pulled him into a hug. The two began whispering, and Richie looked to Ben as he closed the front door.

“She’s been so excited to see him,” Ben explained, setting his suitcase down next to the one Bev had dropped in her haste to get to Eddie. “She didn’t get to see him after he woke up and she still has nightmares that her tourniquet didn’t work.”

“That makes two of us,” Richie murmured, not loud enough for Ben to hear. “Well I’m glad they get to spend some time together. It’ll be good for Eddie to spend some time with someone who’s not me or one of his doctors. I think he’s going a bit stir crazy.”

“I can’t imagine how hard it is for him,” Ben agreed. They watched as Bev and Eddie began making their way to the kitchen, Eddie already offering a list of drinks and snacks and Bev agreeing to a glass of wine. Richie watched with pride as Eddie made use of his new arm to pour Bev a drink, grinning and chatting the whole time. “It’s only been two months, but he looks amazing.”

“It’s a good day,” Richie said. “They’re not all good but he’s the strongest motherfucker I know. Half the time it feels like he’s taking care of me.”

Ben smiled. “Bev and I do the same. We take care of each other. That’s how healthy relationships work.”

“Oh, we’re… uh, Eddie and I aren’t…”

Ben’s eyes widened. “Oh, I’m sorry, I just assumed, I guess.”

Richie didn’t say anything, just turned his eyes to Eddie and watched as he and Bev laughed like they were 14 again. Ben’s voice pulled him from his reverie.

“Rich, are you not together, or are you not together _yet_?”

Richie felt his cheeks heat up and he cursed his pale skin. 40 years old and still blushing like a teenager. Ben laughed next to him, like the pink in Richie’s cheeks told him all he needed to know.

“Anyway,” Richie said. “How about we put your bags up in the guest room and then we go to lunch? We’ve only got a weekend with you guys, let’s make the most of it!”

*

The weekend passed by quickly, and before he knew it he was saying goodbye to Ben and Beverly.

Ben and Eddie stood at the taxi as Ben was loading their bags into the trunk. Richie couldn’t hear what they were saying from where he and Bev stood at the front door.

“You and Ben be good to each other,” Richie said, arm wrapped around Beverly’s shoulders. “You both deserve the best. Also, I’d like to be your best man when you guys get married.”

Beverly barked a laugh. “As long as I’m your maid of honor when you marry Eddie.”

Richie choked on nothing and began coughing. Beverly just laughed more.

“Listen,” he said once his coughing fit had passed. “I just want to be here for him. In whatever way he needs me to be.”

“Are you happy, Rich?”

“I think so,” he answered honestly. “I get to live with my best friend. This thing that had been missing for almost 30 years is back and I don’t feel so empty anymore. And sure, I could be happier, if we – if he… Well. But that would just be a bonus, you know? This is enough for me. Just having him in my life.”

“Eddie told me he wants you to go to therapy,” she said, as they watched Ben close the trunk of the car. Richie didn’t say anything. “I think you should. I think we all should, honestly. We’re all a little fucked up, aren’t we?”

*

Richie sat on the comfortable beige couch and tapped his fingers against his leg. Why was he here? Because two of his best friends told him he needed therapy. He wasn’t sure how to even answer. _What brings you in today_ seems like an easy question to answer but suddenly his mind was blank.

“How about this – what’s bothering you?” His therapist’s voice was soft and sweet, and she gave him an encouraging smile.

Richie sighed. He had to start somewhere. He talked in vague terms about an accident in which Eddie had lost his arm saving himself and Bill. He talked about learning of his childhood friend committing suicide. About helping Eddie through his divorce, helping him get accustomed to life with a prosthetic. He talked about the nightmares that brought Eddie to his room. He talked about Ben and Beverly visiting. But most of all, he realized, he talked about Eddie. He’d find himself on a tangent, telling a story about Eddie that didn’t really apply to whatever he had been talking about. By the time he’d finished expressing an answer to _what’s been bothering you,_ he found himself happy that he’d booked two hours for his appointment instead of just one.

“So, Eddie believes the nightmares are because you feel guilty, am I correct?”

“Right,” Richie agreed. “Because he was saving me and Bill when he lost his arm. He almost died for us. I do feel guilty.”

“Do you believe that’s why you’re having the nightmares?”

“No, I don’t.” He paused, biting his lower lip. “I’m just… terrified of losing him. There’s no reason for him to live with me anymore. He’s perfectly capable of moving into his own place. He’s already planning on starting a branch of his company here so he’s going to be meeting all these new people and living this great life and I just – I don’t see why he’d want to stick around.”

“Are you in a romantic relationship?”

Richie shook his head.

“Is Eddie?”

He shook his head again. “He hasn’t talked about dating at all. It’s only been a couple weeks since his divorce.”

“Right. Are you interested in dating Eddie?”

Richie sighed deeply, letting his head fall in his hands. 

“Richard?”

“I’m in love with him,” Richie admitted, lifting his head up. He pushed his hair back and sunk into the couch.

“Do you think he has feelings for you?”

Richie let out a self-deprecating laugh. “I don’t know. Sometimes I think it’s possible, but… I don’t think I’d be willing to risk it. I can’t lose him.”

Richie watched as his therapist nodded. She stared at him with thoughtful eyes and he felt like he was being x-rayed.

Finally, she spoke. “I think you should have an open and honest conversation with him about your feelings. I can’t imagine how scary it must be to have such strong feelings for your best friend, but based on the way you describe the relationship you two have…. It seems to me that your interactions go beyond platonic. If he’s truly your best friend and he truly loves you, then he won’t abandon you even if he doesn’t feel the same. And if he does feel the same, then you can move forward and finally learn to be happy. Either way, you need to move forward. You’re stewing over these feelings and not letting yourself be happy.”

Richie felt his insides twist with the words the therapist said. He knew she was right, but it didn’t make it any less difficult to hear. He desperately wished he could force a Voice out of his mouth, to laugh this all off, to claim there was a hidden camera and _ha! You’ve been pranked!_ But he couldn’t laugh himself out of this. He loved Eddie. He was so scared of losing him – to death, to a better life, to someone else – that he was sitting still. Life was passing him by as he pined for a man that lived under his roof.

As he exited the office, feeling like a thousand-pound weight was sitting on his chest, his therapist patted him on the shoulder and said, “Let yourself be happy, Richard.”

He’d told Beverly that he was happy. He’d thought he _was_ happy. But it was quickly becoming clear that he didn’t even know what happiness looked like. 40 years on this earth and he didn’t know what true happiness felt like. He wondered if Eddie had ever been happy.

He wondered if he could make Eddie happy.

He supposed the best he could do was try.

*

That evening, Richie sat at the dinner table across from Eddie, eating Italian from their favorite restaurant down the block. Eddie had surprised Richie by ordering it, as a sort of _congratulations, you went to therapy!_ gift.

“So,” Eddie said, clearly trying to keep his voice casual. He’d finished eating first, opting for a smaller portion than Richie. Richie almost laughed at the way he tried to sound nonchalant, but just continued to eat his dinner. “How was therapy? Helpful?”

Richie chewed and swallowed before speaking. “It was good.”

Eddie looked like he was waiting for more, a pinched frown on his face, but Richie just shrugged and took another bite. He wasn’t sure what else he could say. As the silence settled between them, Richie grew uncomfortable.

“Do you think it helped? Are you going to go back?”

“Eds, I don’t know what you want me to say. I don’t – I don’t know how to talk about this stuff. It was hard enough to open up to a stranger.”

“Do you not trust me?” Eddie asked quietly. The words felt like a weight in Richie’s stomach and he dropped his fork, pushing back from the dinner table and standing up. Eddie immediately stood to follow him. “I’m sorry, Rich, I didn’t mean it like that. I know you trust me, I just – I want to help and I don’t know how because you won’t open up-“

They had made it into the living room and Richie dropped onto the couch. Eddie stood to the side awkwardly, his eyes falling on the spot next to Richie like he was unsure whether he was welcome there or not. The room was dark, the television off and the curtains closed, only a sliver of light from the dining room illuminating their faces.

“It’s not like you open up to me either, Eds,” Richie finally said. “I think there’s a lot we’re not telling each other. And it’s fine. We’re grown men, we don’t have to share every fucking detail of our lives with each other.”

“Just because we’re grown men doesn’t mean we didn’t go through something traumatic,” Eddie pointed out. He finally took the leap and sat down. Richie let out a breath when Eddie’s knee brushed his thigh. “We need to be there for each other right now. No one understands what we went through better than each other.”

“But you don’t understand what it was like thinking you were going to die! I didn’t do anything! I just fucking sat there like a fucking –“ He stopped, drawing in a deep breath. He opened his mouth to continue but Eddie began speaking.

“That’s true,” he said softly. “But you don’t understand what it was like to kill someone. You don’t understand what it was like to be the one that almost died. To lie on the ground thinking that this is your last moment. You don’t understand what it’s like to restart your entire life over in a new place. You don’t understand how it feels to lose an arm.”

Richie’s heart was thudding uncomfortable against his chest. The skin of his face felt hot, and his eyes burned with tears. It hit him in a sudden moment how selfish he was. He’d been so focused on his own problems, his own emotional turmoil, that he ignored what Eddie was going through. Sure, he’d been there for him physically, but had he been there for him emotionally? Had they ever even talked about what Eddie had to do to survive Bowers’ attack? Had they ever talked about what those moments in the sewer were like for Eddie?

“I’m not trying to make you feel guilty, Richie. There are things we don’t understand, yes, but there are things we do understand. You understand better than anyone what it feels like to forget your childhood. You understand how it felt to be reunited, how it felt to learn about Stan, how fucking terrifying it was to go back into that sewer. I understand that you have nightmares because I have them too!” Eddie wrapped his arm around Richie, pulling him in and Richie let him, falling into his chest and letting his tears fall.

“You shouldn’t be the one comforting me,” he muttered, wiping at his eyes. “You went through so much worse than I did.”

“I’ve been going to therapy for two months,” Eddie reminded him. “I’ve had help dealing with things. You’ve been dealing with everything on your own, on top of having to take care of me.”

Richie sat up, sniffling. He’d spent most of his life avoiding his emotions, smothering his feelings and creating characters so he never had to truly be himself. It had gone well until Eddie Kaspbrak came back into his life. He sat, his instincts screaming at him to use a Voice, to crack a joke, but he looked at Eddie’s face and knew he couldn’t. It was time to let go of the Voices. It was time to be Richie Tozier.

“I’m having nightmares because I’m afraid of losing you,” he said thickly. He looked down at his jean-clad legs, his fingers twisting a loose thread in the seam. “I know you want to expand your company. You’re going to be so amazing and you’re going to meet all these new people and – I don’t want to lose you when that happens. Once you… Once you meet someone, and move out, and move on. It’s like I’m stuck, and I’ve always been stuck. But you’re only just getting ready to fucking... _go_. I’ve been waiting for something my entire life and it’s you. I’ve been waiting for _you_. And now you’re here and that’s great but you’re going to leave and then I’ll just be stuck and waiting again and-“

Richie stopped short when he felt warm fingers on his cheek. Eddie’s thumb was brushing softly against his cheekbone and he unthinkingly leaned into the touch.

“Rich, I’m not gonna leave you,” Eddie whispered into the dark. He was so close that Richie could feel his breath against his face when he spoke. “You think I haven’t spent my life waiting for something, too? Why would I leave when I finally found what I’ve been waiting for?”

The words took all the fight out of Richie, and he felt himself relax, his forehead dropping. The action pushed Eddie’s fingers back until they were in Richie’s hair, and Richie almost began crying again when Eddie started combing through his curls.

The silence in the room was interspersed only with occasional sniffles from Richie, but in the darkness, it was nice. After a few minutes of running his fingers through Richie’s hair, Eddie leaned back into the couch cushions and Richie followed until his head was against Eddie’s shoulder. It was comfortable. He felt more like himself than he ever had.

Without saying a word, they fell asleep together, huddled up on the couch.

*

When Richie woke, it was because his legs were cold. He tried to pull them up toward his chest but found himself kicking another person. The haze of sleep vanished quickly as he remembered the person he just kicked was Eddie, and his legs were cold because they had fallen asleep on the living room couch. He sat up, stretching, noticing without much regret that his movements had woken Eddie as well. Eddie was frowning, wiping the sleep from his eyes.

“We should get to bed,” Richie whispered, voice hoarse with sleep. He noticed Eddie began rolling his right shoulder, using his left hand to massage it with a frown. “You okay?”

“I’m not supposed to sleep with it,” he answered, grimacing as he removed his prosthetic. “I’m going to go put this away.”

“Can I come with you?” Richie’s mouth asked without his brain’s permission. Eddie had stood from the couch and he turned to face Richie with a questioning glance. “Just – I don’t want to be alone right now.”

He wondered if it was still the dregs of sleep clinging to his brain that made him so honest, or if it was the conversation they’d had before they’d fallen asleep. Either way, the soft smile that overtook Eddie’s face was worth it.

“Of course, come on,” he said. Richie followed him to his bedroom, collapsing tiredly onto the perfectly made bed as Eddie put his prosthetic away. When Eddie made it to the bed he was smiling and rolling his eyes. “I know you’re not used to beds that are actually made, but you’re supposed to get _under_ the covers.”

Richie barked a laugh, standing up so he and Eddie could pull the covers down and slip under them. Richie kept his eyes open against the darkness of the room, watching as Eddie wiggled around a bit to get comfortable.

“It’s because you’re still wearing your jeans,” Richie informed him when he sighed in frustration. “Speaking of, mind if I take mine off?”

Eddie rolled his eyes and sunk further into the mattress. “Go for it. I’m too tired to take mine off.”

Richie watched Eddie turn on his left side, facing away from him, before rolling back over. He laughed quietly when they were face-to-face.

“You good?”

Eddie huffed. “I just – my brain won’t shut up. It’s fine.”

Richie frowned. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Eddie paused. Richie’s eyes were drawn lower, to pink lips being bitten by white teeth. “Did you know I never dated until I met Myra?”

It wasn’t what Richie was expecting. He wasn’t sure what to even say, but it wasn’t necessary. Eddie continued speaking.

“It was after Ma died. I was 34. I remember being a teenager and thinking… maybe I was gay. But I couldn’t – I thought if I just didn’t think about it, it would go away. And once I left Derry that got a lot easier. But I never even wanted to date – men or women. I just let my mom control me. I forgot that my medications were placebos and I fell right back into her lies. And I didn’t have you guys anymore – it was like I didn’t know happiness so how could I know how unhappy I was? I lived with her while I went to school and started the business. And as soon as she died I just… found a replacement. How sick is that?”

Richie noticed the glossiness of Eddie’s eyes, the way his voice kept catching, so he reached out and grabbed Eddie’s hand. He didn’t know what words would be helpful but Eddie seemed to be comforted by his gesture. He smiled at Richie, licked his lips and continued.

“Anyway. Once I got back to Derry and started remembering more about you guys… I realized I’d wasted so much time. And these last few months, I keep thinking about how different my life would’ve been if I’d had you guys in it. If I had _you_ in it. My life would have been so much better if you’d been in it, Rich. And I’ve been angry about that but I don’t want to be angry anymore. We’re alive and we’re together and we’re financially stable and we live in a nice house and… I shouldn’t be so angry. I need to take advantage of what we’ve been given and be happy.”

“I’ve been angry, too,” Richie admitted quietly. While he was talking, Eddie had laced their fingers together, and Richie focused on that feeling as he spoke. “It’s okay that you’ve been angry. It took a lot away from us. We lost years that we could’ve been together.”

The words were out of his mouth before he realized the implication, but he found himself not caring. Too much time had been lost. He didn’t want to waste any more.

“Like I said, I never dated before Myra, and with her she did most of the work.” Eddie looked ashamed. Richie used his free hand to brush some stray hairs off his forehead, relishing in the feeling of the soft strands beneath his fingers. He was so busy watching his own fingers run through Eddie’s hair that he almost missed his next sentence. “I don’t really know how to do this kind of thing. And I’ve never been with a man.”

Richie’s breath hitched. He met Eddie’s eyes, and saw the trepidation behind them. His comment sounded nonchalant, but it carried so much weight and they both knew it. Richie couldn’t believe how much he loved the man in front of him. He had agonized for weeks over whether he would say anything about his feelings, and how he would do it if he did, and Eddie had simply offered himself, quietly, nervously, but with confidence.

“It’s okay,” Richie whispered into the space between them as he scooted closer. “I’ve never really done this either.”

“I thought you’d had relationships before?”

“Yeah, but,” Richie paused, looking down. Eddie had taken the first step. He would meet him halfway. “I’ve never been in love with anyone but you.”

Eddie blinked back tears and Richie brought his hand down to rest against his cheek.

“Richie,” Eddie choked out, and they both brought themselves closer. Richie let out a breath when their foreheads and noses touched. Eddie sniffed, then whispered, “I love you, too. I’m so sorry it took us so long.”

Richie shook his head, their noses brushing as he did. “It’s okay, baby, we’re here now.”

Eddie nodded, and when he did his top lip brushed Richie’s bottom lip. They both paused, not breathing. Finally, Eddie released a puff of breath that Richie felt against his chin, and immediately he bent his head down until their lips slotted together. The change in the atmosphere was instant. They went from what Eddie would describe as _sappy_ to desperate, needy. Eddie curled a leg over Richie’s, using his hand to tug at his curls. Richie found his own hands wandering, mapping out every inch they could reach.

They spent hours exploring each other, learning what they enjoyed and laughing into each other’s skin. Richie couldn’t believe he’d missed out on this happiness for so long, but now that he had it he couldn’t get enough. Every kiss was making up for the years lost. They fell asleep wrapped up in each other, Richie savoring the feeling of Eddie up against him. He swore he would spend the rest of his life memorizing the way this felt, the way it felt to have Eddie in his arms.

He refused to forget Eddie Kaspbrak again.

 

 

 


End file.
